


Day 30: Ritual / Devil's Night

by mrs_d



Series: Do What I Wantober 2020 [30]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27301456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: It's been more than ten years since Chloe married Marcus, and Lucifer went back to Hell for good. But Trixie still talks to him every year on Devil's Night.
Relationships: Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar, background Chloe/Marcus, background Dan/Charlotte
Series: Do What I Wantober 2020 [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947496
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81





	Day 30: Ritual / Devil's Night

Trixie watched the candle burn. Watched how the tip of the lit wick glowed bright orange when the flame twisted to one side, how the wax went transparent and pooled in the middle of the jar. She listened to the quiet piano music that her phone was playing, and the undercurrent of the heating system underneath it. The furnace was cycling on a few times every hour, but Trixie had wrapped herself in a sweater nonetheless; October in New Hampshire was nothing like October back home. 

Earlier, her mom had texted her a photo of her and Marcus trying on their costumes — some matching character set from a TV show that men Marcus’s age liked to watch. Trixie didn’t bother replying, but she noticed they both had bare arms and legs. Meanwhile, the kids here had winter coats stuffed under their costumes and waddled home from school like marshmallows with legs.

Trixie’s classmates were out in skimpy outfits despite the near-freezing temperatures, of course, but college students weren’t typically known for their good judgement. She’d been invited, too, to the Devil’s Night Bash over at Summerdale Hall, the costumed pub crawl her theatre group had organized, and a dozen others. Seemed like every group on campus was celebrating tonight. She supposed it wasn’t too often that Halloween was on a Saturday, so revelers got two nights of partying for the price of one. Trixie was planning to do the same tomorrow — she had her costume already picked out — but tonight was different. Tonight, she had her own tradition, and she needed to be alone for it. 

It started with the candle, the music — piano, always piano, even though she knew he wouldn’t hear. She used to write a letter first, but now she just did some journaling instead, to slow her brain down and let her focus. When she felt settled enough, unplugged from the hustle-bustle of the human world, she sat on the floor. 

(Once, when she was younger, she drew a pentagram to sit on, but that was mostly because she knew it would piss Marcus off. It did; she was grounded for a month and it took nearly as long to scrub the permanent marker off her bedroom floor, but, oh, it was worth it.)

Nowadays, she didn’t bother with things like that. He’d hate it if he knew; symbols were more his Dad’s jam, after all. Trixie would never want him to think that she was worshipping him or something, because she wasn’t. She was just... talking. 

She sat on her meditation cushion in the middle of the floor and closed her eyes. She took a few deep breaths, focusing on nothing but the air entering and leaving her lungs. When she felt ready, she pressed her palms together and bowed her head the way he’d taught her over ten years ago, when he and Maze left for good. Trixie could still picture the tears in Maze’s eyes that day, the way that Lucifer basically had to pull her away, even though she’d made the choice to follow him. It was the only choice available to her; Mom and Marcus didn’t want her around anymore, and, without Lucifer, she didn’t have much to keep her on Earth.

With that memory in mind, Trixie began to pray.

_Samael. Lucifer. It’s me. Sorry that I have say your old name so the prayer goes through. I know you hate it. How are you?_

_How’s Maze? I hope she’s okay, doing lots of good work and punishing lots of bad people. And keeping you safe, too, obviously. Please tell her I miss her every day, and that I’m still practicing with the dagger she left me. It’s easier now that I’m living on my own. Marcus took away all my knives, you know. Or maybe you didn’t know that. Anyway, he did, or he thought he did. I hid a couple. But the week before I moved out, he took Mom out for dinner, so I broke into his safe and stole them back. I don’t think he even noticed, honestly. Everything in that safe was so dusty, especially this ugly old rock he had in there._

_He’s so weird. He makes my skin crawl. I don’t know what Mom sees in him._

_So, I left California in August. Living on the East Coast now. It’s cold. Maze would hate it so much. You probably would, too. But it’s pretty this time of year. All the trees are red and yellow and orange. I like it. I also like that there’s a three-hour time difference between here and L.A. It gives me a good excuse to ignore Mom’s messages if I need to._

_She never really says anything important. It’s all Marcus-this and Marcus-that. I swear, it’s like she doesn’t have a mind of her own anymore. The older I get, the more I understand why you left after she got married. I so get it. It’s like, I’ve been learning in my women’s studies class about how women are pressured into serial monogamy by the patriarchy, how society doesn’t view them as valuable unless they’re attached, and... yeah. I never thought Mom was the type, but maybe she is. It’s like she stopped existing, you know? Like, there was Dad, then Marcus. You were kinda in between, I guess, but I don’t know._

_I just remember all the times you told her she was smart and capable and strong. How you looked at her like she was the best thing in the world. Marcus never tells her stuff like that, never looks at her the way you did. Everybody can see it except her. Even Dad, if you can believe it. He and Charlotte flew out with me when I moved. Ivy’s just a couple hours away, in Albany, so they made a thing out of it, stayed in a hotel nearby for a week. Mom didn’t even call._

_...Sorry. It feels like every year, all I do is bitch at you about Mom. That can’t be fun for you. Let’s change the subject._

_Oh! I have to tell you. I’m taking this course in criminology, and one of the first weeks, we read about Satanic ritual murders. It was fascinating. Kinda like the Salem witch trials, you know, how everybody blamed somebody else for bad things happening — namely, you. I stood up for you, though, don’t worry. My prof was pretty impressed. I don’t know if, like, nobody else in class did the reading or what, but she and I pretty much just talked for the whole hour about how, like, the fear of Satanism was just a way that people tried to avoid the fact that there was real evil within their communities, like parents and trusted adults abusing and killing kids._

_I told my prof about how you always got blamed for that kinda stuff, and she agreed that it wasn’t fair. I think you’d really like her, Lucifer. She’s super smart and really hot. Don’t know if she’s into guys, though. Maybe Maze is more her speed._

_Anyway. Most of the class now thinks I grew up in some kind of weird cult, because I know so much about the Devil and talk about him like he’s a real person, but I don’t care. I know you are._

_I made a cake today. Devil’s food, of course, gotta stick with tradition. My roommate looked at me like I was nuts when I told her I was gonna make it from scratch, and—_

_Oh my goodness. I just realized how funny that is. From_ scratch! _Because it’s your recipe. Is that where that saying comes from?_ _Probably not, right?_

_Gosh, I wish you were here, so you could tell me. I wish you were here in general. And Maze. I feel like I’m starting to forget what you look like, both of you. It used to be so clear, and now I have to dig through my cloud to find the pictures I took of you guys when I was little. I don’t want to forget. I tell people about you sometimes, to help me remember. People other than Dad and Charlotte, I mean. (Charlotte says hi, by the way.)_

_I told Jenna — that’s my roommate, the one who thinks that all cake comes from a box. I told her about how you let me drive your car that one time. She got a kick out of the story, but I described you as my mom’s old partner, so now I think she thinks you’re a lesbian. I would apologize for that, but I know you’d tell me that there’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian, the way you did that day when you were teaching me how to drive._

_Did I ever thank you for that? I don’t remember. I’m still figuring things out on that front, you know, but it really meant a lot to hear you say it. Kids need that kind of acceptance from the adults around them. And if I’d waited for Marcus to give it to me, well. There’s a reason he knows almost nothing about my life._

_I just wish things were different. I know that they can’t be, and I get why. I’m sorry I was so mad at you and Maze when you first left. I know I’ve said that before, but it’s still true._

_Anyway. My roommates will be back soon, and they’ll probably be really drunk and noisy. That’ll be me tomorrow, even though I’m not old enough to drink legally yet. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be happy to know that, but I have a feeling you don’t care._

_I haven’t forgotten what you told me when you taught me to pray. Aside from these updates, you’ll only hear from me if I’m — how did you put it? — in mortal peril. But Satan-willing (see what I did there?) that won’t happen. I promise I’ll be careful._

_Please don’t forget to tell Maze I love her. I miss her, and you too. I hope you get another vacation soon. Happy Devil’s Night, Lucifer._

Trixie pulled her hands apart and raised her head. She drew in a slightly shaky breath, let it out slowly, and opened her eyes. It took a moment to re-acclimatize herself to her surroundings, to ground herself in reality. She wiggled her toes, rolled her shoulders, and wiped the tears off her cheeks. Then she slowly stood up from the floor. Her tingling feet woke up the rest of the way as she headed for the kitchen. 

It was well past time for some chocolate cake. 

* * *

Perched high atop his throne, the King of Hell opened his eyes, too. 

“Happy Devil’s Night, urchin,” he said, though he knew she wouldn’t hear. 

Then he summoned his right-hand demon, so he could relay Beatrice’s message.


End file.
